


I love you

by amorluzymelodia



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fluff, No Smut, Sam washes the reader's hair, non sexual nudity, showering together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-11-07 22:21:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11068296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amorluzymelodia/pseuds/amorluzymelodia
Summary: After a hunt, Sam offers to wash the reader's hair. Fluff ensues.





	I love you

Hunting wasn’t pretty. Despite all the tales you’d heard growing up from your dad and from hunters that came through his bar—a sort of hunter’s outpost, not unlike Harvelle’s Roadhouse—the reality of hunting was much, much gorier than you’d expected. There were days when you were running on three hours of restless sleep, ankle deep in body parts and blood, when you seriously considered quitting; leaving the life behind forever and settling down somewhere. But then you’d save a kid, or a family and you’d remember why you did this in the first place.

This particular hunt had taken its toll on you. It had been incredibly frustrating, the research taking longer than usual and even though you’d gotten the vamp you’d been hunting, you’d gotten thrown around quite a bit—meaning you were going to be covered head to toe in bruises tomorrow. Not to mention that the local cops hadn’t taken well to you and the Winchesters snooping around town and then starting a fire at the local abandoned warehouse where the vampire had been holed up. You, Sam and Dean had had to peal out of there pretty quick, driving the vampire’s victim home first. She was the wife of a bigshot lawyer in town and her husband was so grateful that you’d gotten her home safely that he’d practically shoved a wad of cash at you. The woman wasn’t too banged up, nothing a few bandages and a good night’s rest wouldn’t cure anyway, and the three of you had left her and her husband with your numbers, telling them to call if anything else happened.

Instead of driving all the way back to the Bunker, Dean pulled the Impala into the parking lot of a three-star hotel, causing you and Sam to look to him in confusion. Usually, you all tried to avoid hotels that were higher end, since they would be warier of strangers passing through and were more likely to ask questions about the sketchy stains left on their carpet and the rushed exits that were sure to happen. Not to mention they were more expensive, even if you had stolen credit cards to use.

“Uh, Dean?” Sam asked. “Why are we stopping here?”

“Because,” Dean grumbled, pulling out the wad of cash the lawyer had given you. “I’m beat, we’re rich, and I want to sleep in a bed that doesn’t reek of cigarettes and cheap perfume. So shut up and get your crap out of the trunk.” With that he got out of the car and you and Sam followed him, grinning and rolling your eyes.

The three of you checked in and you actually got two rooms this time, one for Dean and one for you and Sam. You’d been together for a while now, and when the opportunity presented itself you always got your own room with Sam, or at least shared a bed with him when the three of you had to share a room.  

Dean bid the two of you goodnight when you got to your room—two down from his—and when you walked in you were ready to pass out on the bed and sleep until the hotel management banged on the door and forced you to check out. However, just as you were about to lay down Sam came to you and put his hands on your shoulders, turning you to face him. He saw the bags under your eyes and the droop in your shoulders and smiled sympathetically at you.

“C’mere,” he said quietly and you sighed.

“Sam I’m exhausted. Can’t we just go to sleep?”

Sam just took your hand and led you to the bathroom, closing the door behind you two.

“You go to sleep with how tense you are and you’ll wake up with more knots in your muscles and more tired than you are right now.” He said, turning on the hot water and facing you. “So, you are going to take a long, hot shower.”

You folded your arms in front of you and raised your eyebrows. “Look, Sam if this is some half-assed way to get in my pants then I am way too tired for that tonight—“

Sam cut you off, putting his hands on your elbows softly. “No, no! That’s not what it is at all! I just…” he took a deep breath and moved a hand to your cheek, running his thumb underneath your eye. “You’re exhausted, Y/N. You’ve been running on fumes for weeks now and I just wanted to help you relax a bit. We’re in a hotel that isn’t a shit-hole for once and I figured a hot shower would be a good start.”

Instantly you felt guilty for assuming and looked down at your feet, nodding. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Thank you.” You said and stood on your tip toes to give him a peck on the lips. “But you could have just suggested I take a shower. You didn’t need to lock yourself in here with me.” You laughed and Sam smiled.

“Actually I did.” he said, grasping the collar of his tee shirt and pulling it over his head. “Because I’m going to shower with you.”

“Sam…” you started but he was already stepping out of his jeans and into the hot spray of the shower. In truth, a hot shower sounded absolutely amazing and the possibility of one with Sam just made it sound even better. So you sighed and slipped off your torn up jeans and ratty tee shirt and got under the water with him.

It was nice. There was no hurrying. No rush to get clean before someone else needed to use the shower, or the hot water ran out. And you had to admit, it was nice to use a shower that you didn’t feel the need to wear flip flops in in fear of what was growing on the tile. The showerhead even detatched from the wall and had an adjustable spray.

“Oh yeah,” you sighed, leaning your head back and letting the hot water soothe your aching muscles. “This is going to spoil me for all other showers. We need to rescue rich people more often.”

Sam laughed and began massaging your shoulders. Surprisingly he kept his word, and there was nothing sexual about his touch, just a calm, relaxing massage. You felt the tension leaving your body and closed your eyes, letting the water and Sam’s hands wash away the stress of the hunt, and the many hunts that had added to your stress before now.

After a long while of silence Sam stopped. You were about to ask what was wrong before he leaned down and spoke softly in your ear.

“Can I wash your hair?” he asked quietly and you turned to face him.

“Why?” you asked, confused.

He shrugged and looked down sheepishly. “I don’t know…I’ve just always wanted to wash your hair.”

It was cute, how bashful he was. It was such a simple request and so sweet that you nodded instantly, and turned to grab the small bottle of shampoo on the small counter inside the shower. Sam’s eyes lit up and he turned you around, squirting some shampoo into his hands and working it through your wet hair, softly pulling the strands apart and massaging your scalp. You sighed. You’d never thought that having your hair washed could be so relaxing, but maybe it was just because it was Sam doing it.

“That feels amazing,” you said and he laughed.

“Uh oh, now I’m spoiling you.” He joked and you laughed with him.

"You love spoiling me,” you told him and he kissed your shoulder.

“Yeah, I do.” He reached for the shower head and rinsed your hair before repeating his actions with the conditioner. When he rinsed out the conditioner you turned around and looked at him.

“Okay, Winchester your turn.” You said and he laughed, kneeling down in front of you so you could reach his head. You washed his hair thoroughly and you could tell that it was having the same affect on him that it had on you. His shoulders relaxed, his breathing evened out and his eyes closed. It made you happy that you two found this simple pleasure together. It wasn’t sexual, it wasn’t rushed or forced. It was just…nice. Normal. Something that made you feel like you were a normal couple living a normal life and not the hectic life that you did.

When you finished washing his hair the two of you actually washed off the grit and grime from the hunt and turned off the water, stepping out and wrapping fluffy towels around one another. Then you fell into the comfortable bed and Sam pulled you close.

“Thank you,” you whispered, not wanting to break the peaceful quiet that enveloped the two of you. “I needed that.”

Sam kissed your forehead as he played with your hair, still damp from the shower.

“Me too,” he said quietly. Then, after a moment he added, “I love you.”

You froze. It was the first time he’d said ‘I love you’ and he couldn’t have picked a better moment. The two of you wrapped up together, calm, safe, relaxed. It was absolutely perfect and it actually brought a tear to your eye. You knew just how difficult it was for him to say those three words, after losing so many people that he’d loved throughout the years. Even though you’d felt love for one another for a long time—that was no secret—you knew he was hesitant to say it in fear that he would lose you too. So the fact that he was saying it now meant the world to you. You turned to look at him and put a hand on his face, bringing him closer so you could press your lips to his.

 “I love you too, Sam.” You said softly.

A smile lit up his face and he kissed you for a moment before wrapping his arms around you tightly. The two of you cuddled closer together under the soft comforter. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt like this; warm, safe, loved. And it was all because of Sam Winchester.

Laying there with him, you realized that you didn’t need your life to be perfect. You didn’t need a picket fence and a green lawn. As long as you had Sam, you’d have everything you’d ever need.


End file.
